Ivanhoe - Page 130/201

Beside this fountain were the ruins of a very small chapel, of which

the roof had partly fallen in. The building, when entire, had never been

above sixteen feet long by twelve feet in breadth, and the roof, low

in proportion, rested upon four concentric arches which sprung from

the four corners of the building, each supported upon a short and heavy

pillar. The ribs of two of these arches remained, though the roof

had fallen down betwixt them; over the others it remained entire. The

entrance to this ancient place of devotion was under a very low round

arch, ornamented by several courses of that zig-zag moulding, resembling

shark's teeth, which appears so often in the more ancient Saxon

architecture. A belfry rose above the porch on four small pillars,

within which hung the green and weatherbeaten bell, the feeble sounds of

which had been some time before heard by the Black Knight.

The whole peaceful and quiet scene lay glimmering in twilight before

the eyes of the traveller, giving him good assurance of lodging for the

night; since it was a special duty of those hermits who dwelt in

the woods, to exercise hospitality towards benighted or bewildered

passengers.

Accordingly, the knight took no time to consider minutely the

particulars which we have detailed, but thanking Saint Julian (the

patron of travellers) who had sent him good harbourage, he leaped from

his horse and assailed the door of the hermitage with the butt of his

lance, in order to arouse attention and gain admittance.

It was some time before he obtained any answer, and the reply, when

made, was unpropitious.

"Pass on, whosoever thou art," was the answer given by a deep hoarse

voice from within the hut, "and disturb not the servant of God and St

Dunstan in his evening devotions."

"Worthy father," answered the knight, "here is a poor wanderer

bewildered in these woods, who gives thee the opportunity of exercising

thy charity and hospitality."

"Good brother," replied the inhabitant of the hermitage, "it has pleased

Our Lady and St Dunstan to destine me for the object of those virtues,

instead of the exercise thereof. I have no provisions here which even a

dog would share with me, and a horse of any tenderness of nurture would

despise my couch--pass therefore on thy way, and God speed thee."

"But how," replied the knight, "is it possible for me to find my way

through such a wood as this, when darkness is coming on? I pray you,

reverend father as you are a Christian, to undo your door, and at least

point out to me my road."